


Still We Believe

by PrettyTheWorld



Series: Until At Last You Know [3]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brian Gets a Real Family, Christmas, Claire Is Still A Bitch, Established Relationship, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Joan Kinney Is Dead, M/M, New York City, Non-Graphic Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Series, Support, Until At Last You Know, mentions of past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyTheWorld/pseuds/PrettyTheWorld
Summary: “Can you really think of a reason that Peter would suddenly turn on how he feels about you?” Justin asked, trying to begin the conversation pragmatically. “He knows how your sister is, and she knows, at least to some extent, that the two of you are acquainted now. Don’t you think she’d have tried every weapon she had if she was running a smear campaign against you?”“I don’t know,” Brian said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. “I wouldn’t put anything past her.”--When Brian's nephew Peter and his girlfriend Alexis come to spend Christmas in New York, things are off to a great start -- until they're not. Soon, it becomes apparent to everyone that old Kinney family scars run deep.
Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk)
Series: Until At Last You Know [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610245
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	Still We Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 in the "Until At Last You Know" series -- Reading Part 1 ("Every Storm Makes Us Stronger") and Part 2 ("Goodbye Again") beforehand is strongly recommended for context (and for really embracing the full scope of angst, lol). 
> 
> In accordance with the rest of the series, and in honor of my dear friend, beta, and occasional co-author, the title is borrowed from the band Vertical Horizon, and, this time, appropriately and deliberately, a lyric from the song "True Illusion"
> 
> Dedicated to K -- this series has always been for you 💖  
> You're the reason Brian cries 😂

“Have you ever seen him do this before?” Gus asked quietly, casting a sideways glance at Justin as they both stood in the guest suite doorway and watched Brian rearrange the decorative pillows on the bed for the third time. 

Justin was nearly always the one who took charge of guest preparations when they had a visitor — including Gus — but this time, Brian had set up the room, cleaning it and then meticulously making the bed, leading Justin to tease that if he kept it up, it could become his regular task. Brian had only smirked, then brushed an invisible wrinkle out of the duvet. 

“He just wants everything to be perfect for Peter and Alexis,” Justin whispered back. “He’s never hosted someone from his family before.” He looked back over at Brian and raised his voice to an audible level. “Do you need anything else?”

Brian set down the final pillow and took a surveying glance at the room. “No, it’s good,” he decided, shaking his head. 

“What time do they get here again?” Gus asked, glancing at his Apple Watch. They were waiting for their guests’ arrival before they went to dinner, but Gus, growing eighteen-year-old that he was, was starving. 

Brian glanced at his own watch, and then said, “They land at LaGuardia in about an hour.”

“Are we going to pick them up?”

“No,” Brian replied, shaking his head again. “I sent a car for them.” 

“Oh,” Gus replied, trying to hide the note of disappointment in his voice. It wasn’t that he wasn’t excited about meeting his cousin — he definitely didn’t want his dad to get the wrong impression on that, especially considering the level of effort Brian was putting into making the penthouse presentable. He just also hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was closing in on six o’clock in the evening.

“There’s leftover shrimp fried rice in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Justin told him casually, not missing a beat, as usual. He could tell Gus was getting antsy — and as a fellow bottomless pit, could relate — but knew Gus was trying to play it cool for Brian’s sake and peace of mind.

Gus smiled gratefully. “Sweet,” he said before turning in Brian’s direction and adding, “I just want something small. I promise I’ll be able to eat dinner later.”

To Brian’s credit, he smirked. “I’ve never known you to meet a meal you’ve refused, Sonny Boy. I’m not worried.” 

Taking that as his dad’s blessing, Gus headed out of the room and downstairs toward the kitchen, leaving Brian and Justin alone in the room. Justin took advantage of their solitude by walking over to his husband and wrapping his arms around him. 

“I had no idea that domesticity would turn me on this much,” he purred. Brian leaned down to kiss him, feeling Justin’s smile against his lips. 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Brian asked a few seconds later, once they pulled apart. “Am I going overboard?”

Justin shook his head. “No, I think it’s great to see you feeling so invested in Peter’s visit. It’s a big fucking deal, and I’m _glad_ you’re this excited about having them here.”

Brian nodded, leaning down for another reassuring kiss, appreciating the comfort that Justin’s presence and words afforded him. Suddenly, though, a thought crossed his mind, and he pulled back abruptly.

“What?” Justin asked, mildly concerned.

“Should we not fuck while they’re here?” Brian asked, sounding equal parts serious and scandalized. 

Justin furrowed his brow. “If we want to, why wouldn’t we?”

Brian sighed. “Since they’re guests, and Peter’s not used to being around us, and—”

“Brian,” Justin cut him off, though his voice was soothing. “It doesn’t stop us when Gus visits — or hell, even my mom — and I think either one of those would present _far_ more concern, in terms of people hearing us having sex. It’s never been a problem, and you _know_ Gus would say something if it were. Besides, Peter and Alexis are perfectly welcome to have sex if _they_ want to while they’re here. Whether they do or don’t is up to them, just like what we do within the confines of our own bedroom is up to us.” However, Justin saw the bigger picture behind Brian’s question, and also added, “But besides all of that, you already know that Peter doesn’t have _any_ problems with the fact that we’re gay. This isn’t your sister or your nephew John coming to stay with us. We can be ourselves. He loves you exactly the way you are already.” 

It was the kind of speech that normally would have occurred in the other direction, with Brian providing the reassurance, so the fact that the tables had turned spoke to the gravity of the situation. For Brian, having someone from his blood-family as an invited guest in his home, for multiple nights, was indeed a Big. Fucking. Deal. 

Justin just needed him to _truly_ believe that everything would work out just fine. 

*** 

By the time Peter texted Brian to let him know that they were about ten minutes from arriving, the three men had moved to the family room. Brian, fortunately, seemed a little more relaxed — perhaps in part thanks to the Manhattan that Justin had pressed into his hand before joining him on the oversized couch. When the doorman called to let them know their company had arrived, Brian had just reached the bottom of his glass and passed the bourbon-soaked cherry over to Gus as a small concession for his underage status. 

“Are we all going downstairs?” Gus asked, trying to mask his distaste for the smoky flavor of the alcohol as he chewed. He saw his dad smirking out of the corner of his eye, and wondered if that had been his hope all along. Brian rarely gave Gus an outright no when he wanted to try something that Lindsay would have immediately deemed inappropriate, but somehow, he always managed to make a more effective point. 

Justin shrugged. “Scotty already called, so they’re probably on their way up.” Sure enough, the doorbell rang about ten seconds later. 

Gus darted toward the door and Brian and Justin exchanged a quick look behind his back. _You’ve got this. It’s going to be fine,_ Justin’s calm blue eyes assured Brian’s slightly panicked hazel ones. Brian nodded once and gave his husband a small smile before heading toward the door himself. 

_Here goes nothing,_ he thought to himself, and then reached out to turn the knob. 

Upon first look at both Peter’s and Alexis’ faces, it was clear that both were a bit awestruck by their opulent surroundings, enhanced even more by the tasteful modern Christmas decor, but Brian and Justin made a point to ensure that their home also maintained a welcoming and warm presence, so their guests seemed to relax quickly, once they stepped inside the foyer. 

“We’re so glad you’re here!” Justin told them, quickly gathering their coats so that everyone could greet each other properly with hugs. 

“I feel like we already know each other,” Alexis admitted, her voice bubbly, but more delicate-sounding in person versus over the phone or FaceTime. She was taller than Brian had imagined, for some reason, close to Justin’s height, and had the graceful stature and willowy build of someone who had likely studied ballet at some point in her life. 

“Are you a dancer?” Justin asked immediately, clearly on the same wavelength.

Alexis laughed. “It’s the feet, isn’t it?” she asked, gesturing down at her slightly turned-out stance. “I actually considered doing a ballet minor in college, but I didn’t have time to give it the proper discipline it needed, and I knew it wasn’t a career option.” 

Justin nodded. “One of my good friends here studied at Juilliard, so I spent a lot of time with her friends not long after I moved here. I guess it’s just one of the things I immediately notice because of it.”

“He’s a regular Degas,” Brian teased, smirking at his husband. 

“So you must be Gus!” Peter said, turning to greet the younger man with a smile. Next to each other, the cousins’ likeness was uncanny, especially in person. It was clear the Kinney genes ran deep.

Gus smiled back and leaned in to give Peter a hug. “Nice to finally meet you, man! It’s so cool to finally have someone from Dad’s family to hang out with.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying too, about Peter’s family!” Alexis said, laughing, and reached out to hug Gus herself. “I’m Alexis… and it’s so weird how much the three of you look alike!” 

Justin nudged Alexis as she pulled back from Gus. “Guess we have good taste,” he teased, his grin growing even bigger when he saw the fond amusement sparkling in Brian’s eyes.

They gave Peter and Alexis a quick tour of the house, starting with the first floor containing the kitchen, family room, dining room, powder room, Brian and Justin’s bedroom, and two terraces that book-ended the first floor, the second one private to the master suite. 

“I am so screwed after this place,” Peter teased his uncle as Gus led their way to the second floor. “How do you expect me to ever give her _any_ other type of closet space after she’s seen _both_ of the ones in your bedroom?” 

Justin, who was a few steps behind, walking alongside Alexis, overheard him and laughed. “The only reason we have two is because I wouldn’t have anywhere to keep my clothes if we didn’t. Brian doesn’t share space well in that regard.” 

They saw the large divided room that contained Brian’s home office, Justin’s studio, and a slightly more private area reserved for Gus to hang out when he needed to get away from his dads or was hanging out with his New York friends, Gus’ bedroom, a similarly-sized guest room, and finally, the guest suite that Brian had carefully prepared for his nephew. 

“Holy shit,” Peter couldn’t stop himself from breathing out when he saw the room. It overlooked midtown to the south, and to the west, the penthouse’s main terrace below, as well as Central Park.

“You’ll get a great view of the Res in the morning,” Justin told him, noticing his gaze trained on the park. 

Alexis was looking in the other direction, her eyes wide and bright. “I’ve been to New York almost a dozen times, and I’ve _never_ had a view of the Empire State Building from my room!” she enthused.

Brian shifted a little awkwardly from his spot near the room’s entrance, a sure sign that he was feeling uncomfortable by the fanfare. “Will it be okay?” he asked carefully, belatedly realizing that it was a ridiculous question, but fortunately, Peter didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s fucking amazing, Uncle Brian. Thank you!” He grinned at his uncle, with Alexis following suit and echoing similar gratitude. 

“Alright, then,” Brian said, pressing his lips together. “Why don’t you two get settled in. Gus will bring up your luggage, and then we can discuss dinner plans downstairs.”

Justin looked over and had to suppress a smile, recognizing that his husband was pleased with the situation so far, but trying not to make a big show of it. Gus nodded in agreement, and headed back toward the stairs. The apartment had a small private elevator in the foyer that would make his assigned delivery easy, and, even at his age, he delighted in every opportunity to use it for a valid reason. 

The two older men headed back downstairs behind Gus, and went into the family room to wait for the rest of the family to join them. 

“Can I make you another drink?” Justin asked, trying to gauge Brian’s anxiety level as he watched him walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the twinkling city surrounding them. 

Brian turned to him and smiled softly. “No thanks.”

Justin nodded and walked over to join his husband, wrapping an arm around him, causing Brian to follow suit. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s…” Brian paused, trying to find an accurate depiction. “It feels… right.” 

Justin’s smile reached its full ‘sunshine’ wattage. “I’m glad. You deserve this.” Brian leaned down for a brief kiss, but quickly pulled away, glancing furtively toward the doorway behind them. Justin pretended not to notice. Maybe a drink wasn’t necessary, but Brian was clearly still a little on-guard. 

“I was thinking of the Mexican place on 82nd. Gus lost his fucking mind over their guacamole when we took him there,” Brian said, glancing down to Justin for affirmation. 

The look on Justin’s face indicated that he more than agreed. “Yeah, that guac trio was amazing. They had a ton of street tacos too. Great idea.”

And sure enough it was. Peter and Alexis, as it turned out, were huge fans of Mexican food, and were impressed by the upscale menu and creative flavors -- while Pittsburgh provided a lot of excellent ethnic food experiences, their offerings from south of the border were decidedly lacking. The entire group, save for a despondent Gus, enjoyed margaritas with dinner, and by the end of the meal, it was clear that, with the added benefit of several ounces of tequila under his belt, Brian had truly begun to relax. 

The walk back to Brian and Justin’s building was spirited, Gus and Peter chatting animatedly about a video game they both enjoyed playing, while a giggly Alexis was trying to verbally guide Justin through a drunken attempt at a grand jeté. 

Brian hung behind his family and took in the sight, wincing as he saw his husband land awkwardly on his right foot. Fortunately, Justin managed to salvage his balance, posing after he landed.

“C'est magnifique!” Alexis applauded, laughing even more as Justin added a wobbly curtsy to his routine. 

“Don’t quit your day job,” Gus teased, having looked over just in time to catch the tail end of Justin’s ballet debut. 

“Hey, his split was surprisingly good,” Alexis argued, then turned her attention back toward Justin. “I’m surprised how flexible you are!”

Brian snorted. “It comes in handy more often than you would think.” 

“Annnnnd tuning back out!” Gus declared, rolling his eyes, but Alexis just glanced at Justin’s smug grin, then back at Brian and winked. 

As soon as they arrived back at the penthouse, the two cousins made a beeline for Gus’ rec room, eager to put their video game chatter into practice. As Justin, feeling that he had to be the consummate host, was about to offer Alexis a movie night, she spoke up, admitting that she was feeling tired and eager to try out the large soaking tub in their room’s en suite. 

“Do you still want to watch a movie?” Brian asked his husband, after the two of them bid goodnight to their probable niece-to-be. He hovered in the doorway between the foyer and the family room, watching Justin make his way to the bar counter in their kitchen. 

“Not unless you want to,” Justin replied, selecting a bottle of chilled sauvignon blanc and two wine glasses. “I was thinking maybe we could head back to our room… relax….”

Brian smirked, clearly reading Justin’s implied meaning, but for once in his life — perhaps quite literally — he wasn’t entirely sure if he was on the same page. Not yet, anyway. Most of the time, nothing took precedence over the opportunity to have sex with his husband, but most of the time, Brian also didn’t have his son and newly-reunited nephew wide awake in the room above them, or said nephew’s girlfriend a few doors down the hall. And most of the time, when they did have overnight guests, said guests were well-familiarized with Brian and Justin’s tendencies, and knew to pay little mind to any potentially observed (or overheard) PDAs. But none of those were Brian’s family members, and somehow, that made it feel different. 

“Seriously,” Justin continued, cutting into Brian’s thoughts, his tone much more neutral. “We can just have a glass of wine and talk for now. Gus and Peter are probably going to be gaming for hours, and Alexis will be lucky if she makes it out of her bath before she falls asleep. Everyone is happy and having fun, and they can take care of themselves if something comes up. Gus knows to get you in an emergency....”

“I know,” Brian admitted, somewhat reluctantly following Justin down the hallway toward their bedroom. After Justin shut the door behind them, even leaving it unlocked (“That’s how much I trust all three of them to behave like adults!” he’d insisted firmly), Brian sighed. 

“What?” Justin asked, his tone much more gentle. He deposited the wine and glasses on their dresser and walked back to his husband, wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, leaning into Justin’s embrace.

Justin squeezed him in a playful way, hitting one of Brian’s ticklish spots. “Sorry’s bullshit,” he teased. 

Brian scowled and wriggled out of Justin’s arms. “That is _not_ how I expected you to attack me below the belt, Sunshine,” he snapped, though there was no actual malice in his voice. “I just don’t want to fuck this up. Especially not on the first day.” 

There was no mistaking the bare honesty and vulnerability in Brian’s tone now, and Justin knew better than to continue teasing him, so instead, he squeezed Brian’s hand. “I know how much this means to you,” he said, moving to open the wine and pour each of them a glass. “And if I felt that there was any potential for disaster, I’d do what I could to prevent that from happening, not encourage it.” 

Brian nodded quietly, accepting the glass Justin pressed into his hand. “I know,” he said again. “I just….”

They moved to their sitting area, taking seats side-by-side on the sleek white sofa in front of the window that revealed nearly the entirety of Manhattan. 

“Look,” Justin said, waiting until Brian actually looked at him. “I know it’s not easy for you to trust people, least of all your family. They’ve been fucking horrible at giving you _any_ reason to make you think you could. But Peter is different. I’m sure of that. And I think you are too, considering the amount of time you’ve spent on the phone with him since that first day in Pittsburgh. But if you need a little time to let it sink in now that you’re in person, then please, just trust _me_ right now. And not because I’m mildly drunk and horny as fuck — but because I would sooner die than let one more person in your family hurt you.” 

Brian held Justin’s gaze, not speaking as he struggled to maintain control of his emotions. After a few seconds, he leaned forward and kissed Justin tenderly, communicating what he wasn’t able to put into words. When he pulled back, his eyes had cleared, so he cleared his throat and smiled, holding up his wine glass. Justin smiled back and they clinked their glasses together, then settled back against the cushions, side by side, sipping at their wine. 

Faintly, from the room above them, they heard a loud crow of laughter, and it dawned on Brian that he couldn’t discern whether it had come from Gus or Peter. 

“Amazing how alike they are,” Justin murmured, unsurprisingly echoing Brian’s thoughts. “I don’t think we could have imagined them getting along better.” 

Brian nodded, taking a long swig from his glass, eyes focused forward. 

Justin immediately recognized the behavior. “What?” he asked gently, realizing that Brian’s mind was still set on overdrive. He set his wine on one of the side tables, then moved closer to Brian, wrapping an arm around him. 

Brian drained the rest of his wine and set the empty glass on his own side table before he turned back to his husband. “I just feel…” he sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands as he searched for how to articulate his thoughts. “I just keep thinking about the years they’ve been apart.”

They sat quietly for a moment, Justin’s fingers gently threading through the back of Brian’s hair in a soothing rhythm. “The good thing is that they have each other now, and they can form a relationship that they’ll have for the rest of their lives,” he pointed out, hoping to diffuse any negative thoughts Brian was forming. 

“But will either of them resent me for it?” Brian wondered aloud, effectively negating Justin’s attempt. “Maybe not Peter, because I think he understands more about the circumstances, but Gus… he’s never had _real_ family in his life on any regular basis. Not anyone he could be close to, or grow up with. And because I had such a fucked up relationship with my family, he had to miss out. Because of me.” 

Justin’s fingers stilled, his hand dropping back down so that he could wrap his arm around Brian again. “Brian, Gus is fucking _thrilled_ to have another family member to get to know. Will he and Peter, at some point, lament that they wish they’d met sooner? Maybe. But also understand that, more than Gus is happy to have a cousin, he is over the _moon_ for you. He sees what this means to you too. So quit trying to make everything about how it could go wrong, and try to focus on the good that unquestionably exists.” 

As if to punctuate Justin’s point, another faint laugh echoed from upstairs, this one more distinctly Gus, in the belly laugh that he actually shared with his father — though not many who knew Brian had opportunities to notice the similarity. 

Brian sighed and looked back over at his husband. “I know,” he repeated for the third time in their brief conversation. But this time, he appeared legitimately ready to accept it — at least for now. 

“Look at it this way,” Justin continued, his hand moving from Brian’s shoulders to trail down his side. “Everyone is doing something enjoyable to end their evening. Gus is in his glory with Peter, Alexis has probably discovered the obscene number of luxury products you left in the guest bath by now, and I’m here with my sexy husband and the opportunity to celebrate what a fucking success tonight has been so far. So….” 

Brian shuddered as Justin used the faintest touch from his fingernails to graze the sensitive skin just above his right hip bone. “I take it you’re still horny as fuck?” he asked, finally allowing himself to turn himself over to his husband’s sexual wiles — at least, figuratively speaking. If Justin had it his way, _he’d_ be the one turning over by the end of the night. 

*** 

When Brian awoke the next morning, he was mildly surprised to find himself alone until he realized that it was nearly nine o’clock. “Fuck,” he muttered, hoping he wasn’t the last person to wake up. 

He threw on a t-shirt and pair of fleece sleep pants, made sure his hair was mostly presentable, and then headed out to the kitchen, following the smells of breakfast. When he rounded the corner into the room, he saw Alexis sitting at the island, chatting animatedly with Justin as he flipped bacon on a griddle, and kept an eye on a large pan of scrambled eggs. 

“Yeah, I didn’t even know there were multi-level penthouses, honestly,” she was saying, both hands wrapped around her coffee mug. 

Justin laughed. “Trust me, before Brian started looking at real estate, I didn’t either,” he admitted. “My first place here was about 500 square feet!” When he saw his husband now observing their conversation, his smile grew bigger. “Speak of the devil!”

“...and he shall appear,” Brian finished, walking over to pour himself a cup of coffee. He paused to kiss Justin quickly as he passed by the range.

“Morning, Uncle Brian,” Alexis said easily, the familial acknowledgement flooding Brian with warmth. He bit his lip bashfully as he smiled at her.

“Good Morning, Alexis,” he replied. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby! You might have a hard time getting rid of me,” she teased. “Between that amazing tub and the mattress that you apparently ordered from heaven, I’m officially spoiled.” 

Justin sneaked a glance at Brian, happy to see that his husband looked pleased with her assessment. “Fantastic,” was his simple response, but his eyes were sparkling. 

“The gamers are still asleep,” Justin told Brian, figuring he’d ask about Gus next. 

Alexis nodded. “I didn’t even notice when Peter came to bed, but he’s not usually a late riser, so my guess is that they were up most of the night.” 

“You should’ve woken me up sooner,” Brian said, directing his comment toward Justin, his tone pointed enough that Justin would catch his mild annoyance, but Alexis stayed none the wiser. 

Justin shrugged, clearly nonplussed. “I just wanted to get a headstart on breakfast, and figured you might need a little extra sleep.” His response was equally as meaningful to Brian, quietly reminding him that while Justin had been wholly responsible for instigating round one of their sexual escapades the night before, Brian had found his second wind in the dead of night, waking Justin from a sound sleep for round two. Not that Justin was complaining; Brian had done most of the work, and he’d just reaped the benefit of his husband’s spontaneous arousal. But they weren’t about to explain that to their nephew’s girlfriend. 

Instead, Brian joined the real estate conversation, and Alexis learned that they’d actually started with a comparatively smaller place closer to midtown when they’d first moved back to the city as a married couple. They had only upgraded to their current residence a few years prior when Kinnetik had added a dedicated focus on digital ads, causing an impressive spike in the agency’s annual revenue and providing Brian with a disposable income beyond his wildest dreams. As they chatted, Brian found that he really enjoyed talking shop with Alexis; she was, by his own assessment, fucking brilliant, and her background in accounting meshed well with his own business finesse. Despite that she was still relatively new in her field, she understood a surprising amount of the day-to-day accounting work he (vis-a-vis Ted, et al.) dealt with. 

Eventually, the smell of bacon throughout the house was enough to rouse the younger night owls, and within the next half hour, the bleary-eyed cousins shuffled their way into the room, though both seemed excited to begin the day. 

“What time did you come to bed?” Alexis asked Peter, after he pressed a good morning kiss to her cheek.

“I’m not sure, I think it was something like four?” Peter guessed, gratefully accepting the coffee mug Brian passed to him. 

“What were you playing?” Justin asked, peeking into the oven, which appeared to be toasting a large tray of english muffins. 

“Super Smash Brothers, mostly,” Gus replied, stealing Justin’s spot in front of the stove, and surveying the breakfast offerings.

Justin walked back over and nudged him out of the way so that he could give the eggs a stir. “Shit, that’s still a thing? I think that came out when I was in high school.”

Gus smirked. “Wow, it really _is_ old.” He dodged Justin’s spatula by inches, jumping back with a laugh. 

“Not sure what _you’re_ planning to eat,” Justin teased his son, also noticing Brian’s amused smile — likely grateful that the age-related comments were not directed at him, for once. 

“Gus has a Nintendo Switch, and I’d never played,” Peter offered in explanation of their game, attempting to serve as peacekeeper, while seeming to enjoy the playful interactions between his family members. 

The two younger men continued their video game discussion, now including Alexis as well, as Brian and Justin began filling platters and setting the food buffet-style along the free side of the island counter. Gus, much to his relief, was granted a plate to fill, and by the time they all sat down at the table, the primary conversation had transitioned into potential plans for the day. 

After breakfast, everyone returned to their respective bedrooms, agreeing to reconvene an hour later to head into midtown and explore some of the city’s holiday offerings. 

Justin had already wandered into the bathroom by the time Brian entered the master bedroom, and overheard, “Hey Siri, start ‘Justin shower’.” Figuring he hadn’t yet had the chance to _properly_ greet his husband that morning, Brian followed the sound of running water, taking a moment to admire the sight of Justin’s naked form through the glass doors of their oversized shower, his pale skin stark against the gray slab of marble behind him. Brian had a lot of “favorite” parts of their home, particularly because, much like the loft, he’d been able to customize a great deal of it, but chief among them was this room — largely because they spent so much time enjoying it — or, more specifically, enjoying each other _in_ it. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Justin warned when his husband stepped inside the enclosure, ulterior motives more than apparent.

Brian smirked. “We have an hour.” 

“Glad to see you’re feeling a bit more confident about things,” Justin said,tilting his head for easier access as Brian wrapped his arms around him from behind, and trailed his mouth down Justin’s neck.

Brian nipped at the tender skin along Justin’s collarbone. “Since when am I _not_ confident when it comes to this?” 

Justin laughed, reaching his arms behind him to anchor his hands in the gentle curves where Brian’s thighs and buttocks met, allowing him to lean into the gentle rhythmic motion Brian had started against his backside. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Brian’s movement intensified, and he reached down to add his fingers into the mix, his agenda becoming increasingly more clear. “Let’s just say that the king no longer feels he’ll need to abdicate his throne anytime soon.” 

“King, huh?” Justin teased, but then paused, considering it. “I suppose it does regularly rule over this relationship… and I have bowed down to it on far more than one occasion.” 

“You are certainly a most loyal subject,” Brian murmured, then leaned forward to capture Justin’s lips, before making sure his body was adequately prepared to proceed any further. 

Justin grinned as he leaned forward, feeling Brian’s hands take hold of his hips for leverage. 

“Yes, your majesty”

***

“I can’t believe how big it is in person!” Alexis gushed, clutching Peter’s arm as they all stood in Rockefeller Plaza, looking up at one of the most famous Christmas trees in the world. 

Brian snorted quietly. “If I had a dollar for everytime I’ve heard that…” he muttered in Justin’s ear, earning a shove in the side, though Justin couldn’t hide his resulting smirk. 

“It says that it’s 77 feet tall,” Gus said, reading statistics off of his phone. “Holy shit,” he continued. “The star on top weighs 900 pounds and has three million crystals!”

The three young adults stood in a row against the railing above the ice rink and stared at the massive tree in wonderment. When Brian glanced down at his husband, he saw a similar expression, and smiled, grateful for the moment and for the four people who were with him. When Justin caught him looking, he tilted his head in Brian’s direction for a kiss. Brian didn’t have to be asked twice to comply.

It had felt like a nearly perfect morning so far. After they’d left Brian and Justin’s apartment, they’d wandered into midtown via Central Park, enjoying the unseasonably temperate weather, and then headed down 5th Avenue to check out all of the holiday window decor, including Bergdorf Goodman, which Brian had declared a must-see for his out-of town guests. They walked all the way down to 42nd Street and made their way into Bryant Park where they explored the Winter Market, and Brian bought the adults spiked ginger cider, and Gus an obscenely decadent hot chocolate topped with a homemade oreo marshmallow. Eventually, they headed uptown via 6th Avenue, working their way back to Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas Tree and grab a late lunch.

“Hey Lex, look, _Kate Spade_!” Peter said as they walked toward the Promenade, gesturing toward the store with the arm wrapped around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

Alexis glanced toward Brian and Justin to gauge their hosts’ interest in stopping, and Justin grinned. “Go for it!”

As soon as Alexis disappeared through the store’s entrance, Gus headed toward the _LEGO_ store, followed by a curious Justin, leaving Brian and Peter standing outside the luxury handbag boutique to wait for Alexis. 

“She doesn’t need your expertise?” Brian teased his nephew.

Peter chuckled. “Trust me, she’s much happier that I’m waiting outside. I don’t offer feedback unless I’m asked.” 

Brian grinned. “Sounds like you’ve learned the secret to marital success already!” 

“Marital,” Peter echoed, almost more to himself, letting out a slow breath, then glanced behind him and laughed in earnest.

“What?” Brian gave him a questioning look, amusement in his eyes. Peter simply gestured behind them, to the storefront one door over. _Tiffany & Co_. Brian laughed too. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Peter shrugged. “I told you last month that I’m pretty sure we’ll get married soon.” 

Brian’s brow furrowed. “Has that changed?” Peter and Alexis seemed solid as a rock in their relationship.

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” Peter said quickly, shaking his head vehemently. “That girl is _it_ for me, Uncle Brian. I’m sure of that.” He hesitated, looking down at the ground, as if deciding whether or not to say something. After a moment, his eyes cleared and he looked back up at his uncle. “It’s kind of funny that we’re standing here right now, because… I actually considered proposing to her while we’re here. Figured it would be a Christmas she’d never forget. I mean, it already will be, since we get to spend it with you guys for the first time, but… y’know. Just… that would be a big fucking deal.” 

“What’s stopping you?” Brian asked curiously, no judgment in his voice. Despite how he ended up in life, he had no room to talk when it came to engagement timing.

Peter sighed, dragging a hand down the side of his face as he contemplated his answer. “It’s just… she’s _literally_ the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, and — look, I realize that I haven’t spent my life surrounded by the best examples — but she’s everything I could ever hope for. It’s just… I’m just not where I want to be yet. I want to… I wanna do it right. And I’m just not there yet. I want to feel like we’re in a better place financially, more than anything. So I’m working on it. And I mean… she hasn’t been impatient about it, so--”

Brian opened his mouth to respond, but they were cut off by the chirping of Peter’s phone.

“Fuck,” Peter muttered, glancing down at the display.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“It’s my mother.”

This time, it was Brian’s turn to sigh. “Fuck, indeed.” 

Peter ignored the call, which gave Brian a small surge of silent glee, but the phone started ringing again a second later. “I’m sorry. Let me just take this really quick, or she’s just going to keep calling.” 

Brian nodded, grateful that cell phones had been less of a commodity during his earlier years, when he’d maintained more sustained communication with Joan. 

“Hey Mom,” Peter said casually, plugging his other ear with a finger, to block out the bustling noise of the plaza around them. “What?” he said, a bit louder, a second later.

Brian couldn’t make out what Claire was saying, but he could hear the shrill timbre of her voice — one he hoped he would never again have to experience firsthand.

“Mom,” he said again, “No, I can’t. I’m not _in_ town… Well, I wasn’t planning--” He sighed. “Mom, Alexis and I aren’t—” 

Claire continued, her voice growing even louder. Peter gave Brian an apologetic glance, held up his finger to indicate he needed a moment, and walked away, locating an unoccupied bench on the north side of the ice rink, where he sat to finish the call.

Brian tried not to be intrusive, knowing how he felt when that happened to him, but he couldn’t help but notice Peter’s body language and facial expressions as the call progressed. It was clear that they were arguing, and for a while, it appeared that Peter had the upper hand, but at one point, around the same time Alexis stepped out of the _Kate Spade_ store, everything about Peter’s demeanor appeared to deflate.

“What’s going on?” Alexis asked, immediately taking note of her boyfriend’s absence, followed by Brian’s line of sight.

Brian huffed an unamused laugh. “My charming sister called.”

The breath Alexis released, along with the word that accompanied it, made Brian realize that she knew this encounter wouldn’t be good — but for what reason, he wasn’t sure. Fortunately, Alexis immediately followed up with more information.

“I’m pretty sure Peter didn’t tell her we weren’t going to be in town for Christmas this year….” 

_Oh shit_ , Brian thought to himself. He turned to Alexis, noticing that her expression was grim. “Why?” he asked.

Alexis sighed. “He knew if we told her we weren’t going to be home — particularly if we were coming to New York — she’d have made us, well, _Peter_ feel guilty about it. Especially because of Grandma Joan being gone. And then he would’ve been guilted into staying home. Neither of us wanted that, so we agreed that it was best not to say anything….” She sighed again. “Just the same, he’s been dreading this call.” 

Brian nodded. He knew the long-established Kinney tactic well, and, as a result, could recall numerous holidays spent around Joanie and Jack’s outdated dining room set, with an overcooked turkey, entirely too much Jesus, and not nearly enough palatable alcohol to adequately endure the occasion.

“I don’t know what she just said to him, but I don’t like it,” Alexis muttered, mostly to herself, as she continued to watch her boyfriend’s crestfallen expression and his slumped shoulders. Brian felt bad that this was what she’d returned to — she’d seemed upbeat, the strings of a red medium-sized _Kate Spade_ shopping bag wound around her fingers, and surely her plan had been to show off her purchase, not get wrapped up in more Kinney family drama. They’d all had more than enough of that over the past year. 

“What did you get?” Brian asked, attempting to distract her by pretending as if he’d only just noticed her new addition. Trying to guess what was going on with Peter wasn’t helping either of them. Fortunately, just as Alexis reached into her bag, Justin and Gus rejoined them, and Justin showed far more believable interest in her purchase, ooh-ing appropriately over a small black- and silver-striped crossbody bag. 

Gus looked around, only just realizing that they were a member short. “Where’s Peter?” he asked. 

Before Brian or Alexis could respond, Peter’s voice chimed in as he rejoined their group. “I’m here.” 

Brian surveyed his nephew closely — or as closely as he could without drawing obvious attention to what he was doing. Peter was clearly trying to appear normal, but the smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Everything okay?” Brian asked quietly when Peter was within earshot.

“What? Oh yeah, fine,” Peter replied too quickly, and Brian immediately recognized what had changed in his demeanor. His nephew was being _careful_ , much like the first time they’d spoken at the hospice, when Peter wasn’t sure how Brian would respond to him. Brian realized, though, that he wasn’t going to get more information while the group was in the middle of one of the city’s tourist hotspots, and since they had all reassembled, it was probably time to move on. 

The restaurant Brian and Justin had decided on for their late lunch wasn’t far — a little Japanese bistro on 51st Street, in a cozy little basement-level spot right across from Rockefeller Plaza. Justin described it as an “unexpectedly reasonable find,” considering the location, and Brian added that it was that, in addition to their unique bar menu, that ultimately made them trek the 30+ blocks from their apartment on a semi-regular basis. 

Despite Peter’s “fine” claim moments earlier, as lunch got underway, it became clear that things were anything but — and though Brian was trying to play it cool, Justin could tell that anxiety was quickly setting in, especially knowing that somehow, Claire had been involved. 

Peter had managed to seat Alexis and himself as far as possible from Brian and Justin, leaving Gus as the bridge between the two couples, from his seat at the center of the table. He’d also disappeared shortly after the server had taken their drink orders, seeming so insistent and abrupt that even Alexis had cast a concerned look after him. He’d returned without fanfare, though, so their meal carried on, with Justin immediately launching into descriptions of some of his favorite sushi rolls, trying to make up for the clear change in his husband’s disposition as well. 

Once everyone had had their fill of sushi, sake, and mochi, Brian requested the bill, hoping that an enjoyable lunch also meant that an air of normalcy would be re-established — until the server returned, deliberately handing one bill to Brian, and one to Peter. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Brian told his nephew, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.

Peter barely cast his uncle a sidelong glance, his credit card already ready to go. “It’s fine.”

Justin couldn’t help but notice that Gus was looking mildly perplexed as well — Brian _always_ picked up the check when he was with guests, unless it was otherwise pre-arranged. It wasn’t a superiority thing at all — he just liked to treat the people he loved, and had the means to do it. 

Brian opened his mouth to protest again, but Justin gave a minute shake of his head, discouraging it. Despite that the atmosphere had been less tense throughout the meal, Peter had been quiet and spent most of it on his phone, so Justin didn’t want Brian to risk provoking anything. Clearly annoyed, Brian rolled his eyes and shrugged, but didn’t say anything further. 

Once they left the restaurant and started heading up Fifth Avenue, toward home, the day took another expected turn. Brian and Justin had been leading the group, walking a few paces ahead when Alexis squealed, causing them to stop and turn abruptly, both ready to take action, if needed. What greeted them, however, was Alexis wrapping her arms around her boyfriend, as Gus grinned and looked on.

“What the fuck, did he suddenly decide to propose?” Brian muttered, his confusion evident, though his relief was palpable as he also realized that his nephew’s girlfriend hadn’t been mugged. 

“What happened?” Justin asked more loudly, an amused smile on his face.

Alexis’s face was nearly split from the size of her grin when she let go of Peter and turned to face them. “Peter got us tickets for _The Nutcracker_ tonight! At Lincoln Center!”

“Wow! That’s awesome!” Justin enthused along with her. He’d seen the ballet more times than he could count during their time in the city, but he had a feeling that it was likely one of Alexis’ bucket list items, and her boyfriend had just made her entire year.

After a few seconds of excited chattering within the group, they realized that they were about to cause a traffic jam on the busy sidewalk, so they started walking again, this time staying closer so they could continue to converse. 

“I seriously can’t believe you did this! I love you so much!” Alexis kept gushing. Peter would respond appropriately each time and blush, clearly pleased with her reaction, but he was still carefully avoiding his uncle. Fortunately, between Justin, Gus and Alexis, conversation continued to flow somewhat normally as they discussed the upcoming evening. Justin didn’t attempt to pull Brian into the flow any more than he wanted to contribute on his own, but took his hand, squeezing it in what he hoped was reassurance.

As soon as they arrived back at the penthouse, Peter and Alexis disappeared upstairs to change for their impromptu night out, Alexis still giddy with excitement over the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream. Her enthusiasm gave all of them the excuse to try to match her mood, but Justin could see that Brian was struggling to maintain his forced smiles. 

“Calm down,” Justin said quietly, his hand moving soothingly between Brian’s shoulder blades as they sat on the family room sofa to wait. “Maybe he just got quiet before lunch because he was focused on finding the tickets as a surprise.”

Brian gave Justin a skeptical look. “You _do_ know how easily I can procure tickets for just about every fucking event in the city, right? If he wanted tickets for the ballet, all he had to do was ask. Instead, he’s gonna have to sell a kidney to afford their return flight. Nutcracker?” he continued derisively. “More like ballbreaker.” 

Justin snorted. “Don’t be so dramatic. Maybe he wanted to do something special for her on his own. Ballet is one of her lifelong passions. Don’t assume.”

Brian shrugged dismissively, and didn’t respond.

When their guests came back downstairs and into the family room, Alexis in an elegant wine-colored lace sheath dress, and Peter in a charcoal-colored suit with a white dress shirt, and tie to match his girlfriend’s ensemble, Justin let out a low whistle. “You two clean up nicely!” he teased. 

“Thanks!” Alexis grinned. “I need your opinion, though!”

“Mine was not worthy enough,” Peter added, his tone teasing. It was apparent, though, that his gaze remained on Alexis, carefully avoiding eye contact with his uncles. 

“Sure!” Justin agreed, almost too readily. It was clear to Brian that he was trying to compensate for whatever Brian felt was out of sorts, but Alexis didn’t seem to notice. 

“I brought two nicer coats, and I’m not sure which would be better….” She held up a black wool swing coat and a shorter, more fitted black leather coat with a faux fur collar.

Justin immediately pointed to the first option. “Both are great options,” he began, “but the wool coat is adorable. Total Princess Kate vibes.” 

Alexis beamed, turning to Brian for his approval.

“Very classy,” he affirmed, nodding toward the coat Justin had advised and offering an unmediated smile. There was something gently disarming about his eventual niece-to-be that he realized he appreciated. At the very least, as long as she was present, it was easier to ignore the new elephant in the room.

Seemingly decided, the two started pulling on their coats when Gus walked into the room. “Hubba, hubba,” he teased them both, grinning. 

As much as Brian wanted to deny it, he felt a pang of jealousy when he saw the easy manner with which Peter smiled back at his cousin, making it seem even more apparent that whatever was eating at Peter was personal, and not a general sense of upset over whatever bullshit had transpired with Claire.

“You’re welcome to take one of the company cars,” Brian offered, trying to keep his tone amiable, despite the anxiety and subtle notes of possible betrayal simmering just beneath the surface. 

“Oh, no,” Peter answered immediately, shaking his head. “We’re fine.” 

Brian eyed the heels of Alexis’ chic black booties. “Are you sure about that? 

“I called for a Lyft.” Peter’s response came in his wake, as he’d already started walking toward the door. He paused when he got there, waiting for Alexis to catch up so she could take his arm.

Justin opened his mouth to respond, but Brian waved him off, and Gus gave them both a perplexed look.

As Alexis called goodbye, Justin managed to throw back a, “Have fun!” before the door closed behind them. 

“Do they even know how to get back in after hours?” Gus asked. Upon seeing his dad’s face, he shrugged, and added, “Nevermind. I’ll just text Peter and let him know.”

Brian nodded and made his way to the bar, pouring himself a haphazard splash of Chivas and downing it in a gulp. He refilled it quickly, and then resumed his spot next to Justin, who reached back to gently massage the nape of his neck.

Realizing that his dads wanted to talk, Gus took his cousin’s unplanned departure and unexpectedly free evening as an opportunity to finish some gift wrapping and relax, so he headed up to his own room. Considering the yawn he’d stifled as he’d walked toward the stairs, his parents figured they probably wouldn’t see him for a while. 

They sat silently for another few seconds, Brian finally leaning back into the couch. Effectively halted in his attempts to ease his husband’s tension, Justin pulled his hand out from behind Brian’s back. Another minute passed and finally, Brian sighed. 

“I can’t stop thinking of what my bitch of a sister could have said to him on the phone. He was _fine_ before that call, and it feels like a switch flipped as soon as he came back.” 

Justin glanced over at his agitated husband, realizing he might as well get the obvious out of the way. “You could call her and ask.” 

Brian rolled his eyes. “I could also take a well-executed swan dive off the back terrace and hope I get impaled by the church steeple next door,” he muttered, then cringed around his next gulp of whisky.

“That’s ill-advised on a number of levels,” Justin replied, stifling an amused smile. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the arc you’d have to perfect in order to make an accurate landing is physically impossible.” 

“Who the fuck are you, Sir Isaac Newton?” Brian snapped coldly, standing to walk back over to the bar, and effectively vanquishing Justin’s attempts at light humor to remedy the situation. 

Once Brian returned to the couch, his drink generously refreshed, they went back to sitting in silence, though Justin could practically hear the gears turning in Brian’s head as they filled his brain with any irrational thought they could churn out. Justin attempted to engage Brian in more basic conversation as he attempted to figure out a way to truly cut to the core of Brian’s current mental maladies, but he was met at every turn with a grunt or otherwise flippant response. Finally, when Brian got up yet _again_ to fill his drink, Justin put his foot down. 

“Will you fucking _stop_?” he demanded, just as Brian’s hand landed on the gently bulged glass neck of the Chivas bottle. 

“Stop what?” Brian asked, his tone verging on exasperated. 

Justin stood and walked over to his husband before responding. “Stop trying to hide whatever you’re upset about in this bottle. For one, it’s not going to fit. Trust me. And for another, you’re going to regret it later, when Peter and Alexis get back and you’re either passed out drunk or you say something damaging that you won’t remember afterward.” Despite the barking tone of his prior question, he kept his tone more gentle now, knowing that picking a fight with Brian wouldn’t accomplish anything productive, and ran the risk of pushing him to escape. Brian had grown exponentially in his willingness to discuss difficult things over the years, and even more so during the last several months, as he’d navigated Joan’s illness and death, but he still had a tendency to fall back on old habits when he was feeling trapped. 

Brian didn’t look convinced, but he took his hand off the bottle, and turned more fully toward his husband. “What do you propose instead?”

Justin shrugged. “Let’s watch a movie or start something on Netflix. We could bake some other kind of cookie for Christmas. We could go take a hot bath, or take a walk through the park. We could actually _talk_ about this. Or, if you really want to, and there’s no other option, we can go to bed and you can fuck my brains out — just _something_ that isn’t you drinking your feelings instead of actually doing something productive about it.” 

The tension in Brian’s jaw was visible as he clenched it, absorbing Justin’s words. “Is that something you want?” he asked, his tone measured.

“Which part?”

“That you want me to fuck you.”

It took a lot of power for Justin to refrain from rolling his eyes, because _of course_ that was the one thing that stuck in Brian’s head, but he managed, only letting out a measured breath. “No, not particularly right now, but I’ll take it over watching you get shitfaced until you pass out.” 

“Okay, good,” Brian nodded, adding, “I’m not sure I could right now.” 

Justin smiled a little sadly, putting a hand on Brian’s bicep. “That’s not a bad thing.” He paused, taking the whisky tumbler out of Brian’s other hand and putting it back on the bar. “I know this is the last thing you want to do,” he continued, sliding the hand on Brian’s arm down to link with Brian’s hand instead, “But I think you should talk. At least try.” 

Brian pulled his hand out of Justin’s immediately, throwing both of his hands up in frustration. “That’s just fucking it, though! What am I supposed to talk about when I can’t read my nephew’s goddamn mind? I can’t predict what kind of fucked up shit my sister might have said, and what Peter took from it that made him treat me like I’m… I’m… fucking… Ebeneezer Scrooge where he has to suddenly spend exorbitant amounts of money on his own food and entertainment while a guest in _my_ home. The _one_ time I _finally_ get a family member with whom I might _actually_ have some semblance of a fucking _normal_ relationship, and less than twenty-four hours after the start of a seemingly perfect opportunity for something new, I’m suddenly not fucking _good_ enough for him? What the _fuck_.” Brian was practically yelling by the time his outburst ended, but Justin felt relief coursing through his veins as he realized that he was pretty sure he knew how to proceed — at least, roughly. 

Before Justin could respond, Brian stepped away from him and into the hallway, heading toward their bedroom. Justin wavered between giving him some space and trying to continue the conversation, but after a moment’s consideration, went after his husband. Sometimes with Brian, it was necessary to strike when the iron was hot, if any progress was to be made. 

Justin didn’t know what, exactly, he expected to find Brian doing when he made it into the master suite, but sitting on the sofa, appearing to wait for him, wasn’t it. He sat down next to Brian and simply raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Brian sighed deeply. “You want me to talk more, let’s talk.”

An internal feeling of vindication surged through Justin as he tried not to allow his satisfaction to register on his face. He’d spent the better part of nearly twenty years trying to get Brian to voluntarily talk about difficult topics, most recently right after Brian had learned about Joan’s illness and effectively tried to shut Justin out, rather than being forthcoming about his feelings. While this talk wasn’t entirely at Brian’s own will, it was close enough for Justin to consider it a major win. He definitely didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. 

“Can you really think of a reason that Peter would suddenly turn on how he feels about you?” Justin asked, trying to begin the conversation pragmatically. “He knows how your sister is, and she knows, at least to some extent, that the two of you are acquainted now. Don’t you think she’d have tried every weapon she had if she was running a smear campaign against you?”

“I don’t know,” Brian said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. “I wouldn’t put anything past her.” 

Justin couldn’t disagree there. Claire was truly one of the most unpleasant and manipulative people Justin had had the misfortune of meeting in his life, and considering some of those who had crossed his path over the years, that was saying something. 

“Don’t you at least think you should give Peter the benefit of the doubt and talk to him before you draw an uninformed conclusion and write him off?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. The last thing he wanted was for Brian to mistake his question for an accusation.

“He’s still a guest in my home. Do you need any further verification that I have yet to write him off?” Brian asked shortly. A quick glance at his face told Justin that his husband’s tone was the result of frustration, not anger. 

“Well, not exactly,” Justin said honestly. “You’re not an asshole. You wouldn’t throw him out of your home solely on the basis of assumption.” 

“I’ve kicked my sister out for less,” Brian said with a snort, then looked down and let out another sigh. “I’m not going to write him off. I… don’t want to. Not without a little more clarification on his part, anyway.” 

“Well,” Justin reasoned, “Alexis seemed like she didn’t think anything was wrong before they left. If something’s eating at Peter, don’t you think he’d share it with her while they’re out?”

Brian shrugged. “I guess that depends on how closely he follows Kinney family tradition. He could also choose drown it in as many shitty theatre drinks as he can suck down during _The Nutcracker_.” 

Justin couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “I’m pretty sure the last time Daph and I were there, we weren’t allowed to take food or drinks into the performance hall.”

“Then he’d just have to drink fast. If he takes after Joanie, he’s set.” 

“Look,” Justin said, reaching out to take Brian’s hand. “I don’t think Peter and Alexis would have gotten to where they are in their relationship if they didn’t talk about the things that bother them. I haven’t gotten the sense that communication is a problem for them. Until there’s a reason to think otherwise, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt.” 

Brian cleared his throat and nodded. “She did seem pretty pissed off when she saw Peter talking to Claire when she came out of the store earlier.”

“See?” Justin said, hoping his tone was encouraging. “She knows something’s gotta be up. _Don’t worry_.”

To Justin’s surprise, Brian actually barked out a hearty laugh. “You know, Sunshine, sometimes I can’t believe that anyone in the world has gotten inside me the way you have -- and other times, you say things and I think, _have we just met_?”

Amusement danced in Justin’s eyes too. “Okay, that was a bit of an absurd request.” He paused and lowered his voice to a more seductive tone, “But I’m still going to take _all_ the credit for the ways I’ve _gotten inside_ you.” 

“Oh really?” Brian challenged, leaning in closer. Justin closed the gap and met his husband’s lips in a kiss that quickly grew heated.

“I’d be happy to demonstrate,” Justin breathed when he pulled back, knowing it was a longshot, but if he could get Brian distracted long enough to get him through the evening, it was worth the try. Especially if it gave him the opportunity to top for the first time in several weeks. 

Brian only gave Justin a knowing smile. “Nice try,” he began, standing up from the couch. “But depending on how things go later, I might only be able to handle getting fucked once today.” 

***

Two hours later, it was clear that Brian’s mind was still churning through worst-case scenarios, and Justin had given up trying to calm his self-defeating thoughts, in favor of baking. It was something soothing and methodical that required his concentration, which helped him focus on something other than his agitated, pacing husband. 

The air was filled with a heavenly, spicy smell that even drew Gus back downstairs eventually. He cast a wayward look toward his dad before joining Justin in the kitchen, his eyes lighting up when he saw the island counter covered with rolled dough. 

“Don’t get too excited,” Justin warned. “These are still a few hours away from eating.” 

“Why?” Gus asked, pouting slightly, which looked ridiculous on his 18-year-old features. 

“They’re gingerbread. I need to put clothes on them first,” Justin teased, gesturing toward his frosting accoutrements on the adjacent counter before pressing a person-shaped cookie cutter into the dough. 

Gus blinked at Justin several times, trying to process that logic. “And since when has eating naked men been discouraged in this household?”

Justin nearly dropped the cookie cutter he’d just lifted, caught completely off-guard. “ _GUS_!” he exclaimed, before bursting into laughter. Gus joined him, and the two were practically in tears by the time they noticed Brian approaching. 

For a moment, Justin was hopeful, thinking that his husband could get out of his own head long enough to notice and appreciate the humor in the situation, but he simply regarded Justin’s baking spread, followed by the two younger men, with a look of skepticism.

“Who the fuck even _likes_ gingerbread?” he asked, his tone verging on disdainful. 

Justin simply rolled his eyes, seeing Brian’s question for exactly what it was — an attempt to pick a fight in order to distract himself in a different way. 

Surprisingly, though, Gus was the one to speak up. “Uh, I do,” he said pointedly, giving his dad a challenging look. “What’s your problem anyway?” he added, not particularly delicately. 

Brian’s right eyebrow raised as he focused his gaze on his son. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to reconsider it, and then stopped and turned, walking out of the room. 

“Am I supposed to feel bad about what just happened?” Gus asked, glancing over at Justin to assess his reaction. 

Justin shrugged and continued cutting gingerbread men out of his sheet of dough. “Don’t worry too much,” he reassured his son. “He’s got a lot on his mind.” 

Gus’ brow furrowed as he tried to wrap his mind around that information. “But how?” he asked. “We’ve literally been either walking around the city, shopping, or eating most of the day. And he was totally fine before—” Gus caught himself as he slowly started putting the pieces of the latter part of their day together. “Is this because Peter was being kind of weird?” He frowned, now starting to feel a little remorse as he realized that his dad’s flippancy was more than likely meant to disguise his insecurity. 

It was clear that Gus knew his father well, and Justin was grateful for it, as it saved him a lot more explanation. “Pretty much,” he replied, peeling the last cookie out of the dough and placing it on a large pan. “You know how he overthinks things when he doesn't know what to make of it.” 

“Do I ever,” Gus laughed, bulging his eyes slightly as emphasis. “But seriously,” he continued thoughtfully, a second later. “I don’t really know what happened, but I think Peter’s pissed at Aunt Claire, not Dad.” 

It was bizarre, hearing Gus use the familial acknowledgement toward the wretched woman, but Justin didn’t want to let on too much. He just hoped Gus would never drop it around Brian. “Did Peter say something?” Justin asked instead, his voice curious. 

Gus shrugged. “I mean, not really… but kind of?” 

Justin nodded him on, expression both encouraging and impatient. It seemed that answering questions without actually answering questions was a family trait shared among the Kinney men.

“He was kind of quiet when we were walking back,” Gus continued. “Like, before he brought up _The Nutcracker_ thing. I asked what was wrong, and he was just like, ‘Nothing. My mom’s just being a bitch and has to ruin everything for me,’”— Gus muttered the response in an impressively accurate impression of Peter’s voice — “and then before I could ask anything else, he started talking to Alexis and changed the topic.” 

Justin couldn’t help the relieved smile that immediately formed on his face, causing his son to give him a strange look and take a step back, asking “What?”.

“Nothing,” Justin said, shaking his head. “I’m just… Look, maybe you could let your dad know about that part? I think it would do him some good to have a little peace of mind before Peter and Alexis get back from the ballet.” 

Gus cast a wary glance in the direction of the hallway to the master suite. “I mean, I guess so? If you think it’ll make a difference.” 

“I do,” Justin said, nodding. He gave Gus a grateful smile, watching as he headed out of the room. When the sound of knocking and then a door opening and closing was followed by silence, Justin felt safe enough to return to his baking. 

About fifteen minutes later, Justin was in the process of rotating pans in the oven when he heard the bedroom door open again, and a moment later, Brian walked back into the kitchen in his winter running attire as Gus dashed up the stairs, yelling, “We’re going to the park,” and then disappeared toward his bedroom to change. 

“Smells like Christmas,” Brian commented, surveying the baked cookies cooling on the counter. 

“Yeah, but who the fuck even likes these?” Justin teased, eying his husband. Brian had the decency to look remorseful, and crossed the kitchen, waiting for Justin to close the oven and set down his latest tray of completed cookies before wrapping his arms around Justin’s shoulders. 

“Forgive me for being a dick?” Brian mumbled into Justin’s hair.

Justin wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist, squeezing him gently with his oven mitt-clad hands. “It’s my speciality.” 

***

By the time Brian and Gus returned from their run, it was after ten o’clock. Gus ran upstairs to shower, but Brian wandered into the dining room, noticing that the light was on. Justin had just finished icing the gingerbread, and the long table was adorned with several trays of the drying cookies.

“Is that an ascot?” Brian asked, gesturing at a cookie as he surveyed his husband’s impressive handiwork. “And if so,” he continued, “why’s that the only thing he’s wearing?”

“Guess he’s only a little cold right around here,” Justin said, smirking as he gestured just around his own neck region. “I was trying to make each one a little different, and I made way too many batches—” he ignored Brian’s snort “—so I was running out of creative options.” 

Brian nodded, eying one of the trays long enough to make Justin suspect that he was contemplating snatching one, but before any thefts could take place, Brian seemed to make a decision, and headed into the kitchen instead, snagging a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. “Have our balletomanes returned?” he asked, clearly trying to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. 

Justin nodded. “Yeah, not too long before you and Gus got back. They already went upstairs. I thought you’d beat them, actually. Where did you go? I thought you were just doing a few times around the Res?”

“Evidently too many,” Brian muttered, clearly deflated. “Apparently Gus is training for a half-marathon. Who the fuck runs thirteen miles outside in _Canada_ in the winter?”

“Canadians?” Justin answered, shrugging.

Brian ignored him. “Anyway, we only did about six, but I still thought we’d be back sooner.” He paused, running a hand through his windblown hair. “Dammit.” 

Justin walked closer to his husband, placing a comforting hand on his bicep. “They didn’t say they were going to bed,” he reasoned. “Maybe you can still talk to him tonight.” 

“I guess,” Brian said, sighing. He uncapped his water bottle and took a long swig, then moved away from Justin. “I’m going to shower, and then I’ll figure it out.” 

The kitchen was still a mess, remnants of the impromptu baking extravaganza spread all around the counters, so rather than following his husband into the bathroom, Justin opted for cleaning, figuring Brian might want some time alone, to get his thoughts in order before talking to Peter. 

Once everything was gleaming again, and the dishwasher was running, Brian still hadn’t emerged, so Justin headed to their bedroom to check on him. The sight he found made him smile fondly — Brian had fallen asleep on the bed, still partially wrapped in his towel. He was breathing deeply and snoring slightly, making Justin realize how truly exhausted Brian must have been, and how hard his brain had likely been whirring, as he’d tried to decipher what was going on with his nephew. 

As gently as he could, Justin extracted the still-damp bath towel from his husband’s hips, and pulled a soft throw off of the couch to cover him instead, protecting his modesty. Fortunately, Brian didn’t stir at all, not even during the time Justin took his own shower. 

When Justin returned to the main area of the house, he found Alexis in the dining room, surveying the plethora of cookies now adorning the table. 

“Want to be the first to try one?” he offered, the sudden sound of his voice causing her to jump. 

“I didn’t hear you come in!” she exclaimed, holding her hand to her heart. “And sure, I love gingerbread!” 

Justin grinned. “And how do you feel about warm and boozy Christmas cocktails?”

“I think you’re my new best friend!” Alexis laughed. 

“Okay. I’ll get a plate and you pick these,” Justin gestured at the array of decorated cookies, “and I’ll make us some drinks. I’ve had an idea for something I wanted to try, but Brian doesn’t really like floofy cocktails, so….”

Alexis nodded in agreement, and the two set to their respective tasks, Alexis joining Justin in the kitchen when she’d made her selections. While Justin’s concoction simmered on the stove, he joined her at the counter and they each chose a cookie, toasting with them, before each biting off the cookies’ heads. 

“These are _so_ good,” Alexis said, nodding appreciatively, after she swallowed her first bite of gingerbread. “You’ll have to give me your recipe.” 

“Definitely,” Justin agreed. “I don’t think I really do anything special, but it’s a recipe my mom used to use when my sister and I were younger.” 

“Is your sister older or younger?” Alexis asked. 

“Younger,” Justin replied, walking back over to check the pot on the stove. When he lifted the lid, a sweet and spicy aromatic smell filled the kitchen. “Actually, Molly’s almost ten years younger than me,” he continued, retrieving a ladle and filling two glass mugs with amber liquid that he topped with a generous scoop of homemade whipped cream he’d pulled from the refrigerator. A sprinkle of cinnamon was the finishing touch, and he walked both of their mugs over, handing one to Alexis. “Wanna sit in the family room?”

They moved over to the couch, making themselves comfortable before Justin handed Alexis her mug. “Cheers!” he said, holding his drink out toward her.

“Cheers!” she echoed, gently clinking her mug with his, before taking a careful sip of the steaming beverage. She let it sit in her mouth for a moment, eyes closed, and then sighed happily. “This is fucking delicious!”

Justin laughed, realizing it was the first time he’d heard her swear since they’d met, and it seemed almost foreign coming from her mouth. “I’m glad you like it! It was an experiment.” 

She took another sip, nodding as if to affirm her original assessment. “What’s in it?”

“Apple cider, vodka, and a little bit of bourbon, then I drizzled a little bit of caramel in the mugs before I poured it, and topped with whipped cream and cinnamon,” Justin explained, and then tasted his own, finding he was also incredibly pleased with the results. 

“It’s actually not too sweet,” Alexis said. “Uncle Brian might like it if you skipped the whipped cream. I think that’s what would throw him off.”

Justin considered that and took another sip. “I think you’re right. It looks a lot more innocuous without the embellishments, and he doesn’t usually say no to bourbon.”

Alexis nodded, “Must be a Kinney thing. Peter loves bourbon — and really, all kinds of whiskey too — though he tends toward scotch most of the time.”

“Definitely a Kinney thing,” Justin agreed, reaching for another cookie. He took a bite, then added, “Brian’s poison is definitely scotch, especially when he’s stressed about something. If the Chivas comes out, I know I’m in trouble.” His eyes lingered on the bar a moment too long, and Alexis noticed.

She looked hesitant for a few seconds, buying herself some time by finishing her first cookie, and having another sip of her drink, but then she pressed her lips together and looked over at Justin, asking, “I don’t suppose something stressed him out tonight?”

It was hard to tell if Alexis was alluding to what had happened earlier, or if she was speculating based on what she’d just observed, but Justin figured there wasn’t much to lose in being honest with her. If he could get to the bottom of what had happened earlier that day, perhaps it would help allay some of Brian’s fears moving forward, and they could enjoy the next two days of Christmas-related festivities without any sort of family drama. 

“I think he’s wondering if Peter’s avoiding him,” Justin said, not beating around the bush. 

Instead of giving Justin a confused or surprised look, Alexis simply closed her eyes and sighed slowly. “I told Peter to be careful of that, and that he should just have an honest conversation with Uncle Brian.” 

Interest immediately piqued, Justin leaned over to set his mug on the coffee table and turned his full attention on Alexis. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

Alexis followed suit, setting down her drink and then turning so she could sit cross-legged on the couch, facing Justin. “The whole thing is about what his mom said to him earlier, before sushi. I told him she’s just trying to get in his head because she’s jealous and bitter, but it made him all paranoid.” 

Now Justin was confused. “What _did_ Claire say to him?” 

Alexis rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Peter’s mother. “She basically accused him of being a golddigger. Told him that he’s no better than she is, and that Uncle Brian probably sees him for exactly what he’s doing — no doubt because that’s what he’s always seen in her.” Alexis sighed again. “But I promise you that Peter isn’t—”

Justin cut her off before she could get any further. “Trust me, we know. Brian would never have moved forward with trying to form a relationship with Peter if he thought differently.” 

Alexis smiled sadly, though she appeared grateful for Justin’s words. “I wish he wouldn’t let her get to him. Normally, he knows better, but just… she seems to know how to cut him right where it hurts, and it’s so upsetting to me that she _always_ does that to him when he’s in the middle of something good.” 

“Believe me, I know what you mean,” Justin affirmed. “I’ve known Brian for close to twenty years now, and it’s never changed. He’s fairly immune to Claire, but Joan always knew how to get to him. I’m not even sure she had enough awareness of others to fully realize how much she affected him, but it didn’t change the broken man who came back to me nearly every time he crossed paths with her.” 

“Sounds about right,” Alexis said, snorting bitterly before reaching for her drink again. “I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. And honestly, I don’t think Peter’s grandma ever even knew my name, she just referred to me in the third person, as ‘that oriental girl’ — and other things, I’m sure. She barely acknowledged me when I was around — and Peter and I have been dating for five years!” 

Justin shook his head, picking up his own mug and taking a generous gulp. “I know they say certain traits run in families, but it amazes me how so many people in this family are just so incredibly… unhealthy and dysfunctional.” He paused, grinning a little. “I mean, I’m grateful that you and I managed to find the two who were able to escape the curse, but….” 

“I know,” Alexis agreed. “Peter’s mom basically hates me. Hates that I — in her eyes — have more ‘control’ over her son than she does. She just can’t accept that at least one of her boys has his own mind, and refuses to comply with her absurdity. And she’s hideously jealous that both Peter and I have successful careers but refuse to go out of our way to support her or John. Peter will cave more sometimes, if it’s something that’s legitimately important, but mostly it’s frivolous demands. And… truthfully, she hates that I’m not white. She’s said far worse things than Grandma Joan ever did.” 

“I can imagine,” Justin said, frowning and shaking his head. Alexis was a beautiful, kind, intelligent, and articulate young woman with a strong future ahead of her, and it was clear, even just by their easy interactions, that she and Peter were head-over-heels in love with one another. It was sad to hear that the Kinney family was so dismissive of two amazing people who were doing something positive with their lives — much like they did to Brian and himself. 

As they continued to chat and snack, Alexis told Justin more about how she and Peter had met, and her initial experiences in meeting his family. She explained that she rarely spoke with John, though neither did Peter these days, the brothers seeming even more worlds apart, the older they got. Claire had been relatively civil, but still generally dismissive of Alexis from the beginning. Peter had told her that, not only had Claire felt threatened by Alexis’ role in her youngest son’s life, but she also resented how attractive Alexis was — especially given that she wasn’t Caucasian, and that she had a slender and elegant dancer’s body. In fact, Alexis told Justin that once, in what had initially appeared to be a moment of solidarity, Joan had shared with Alexis that Claire had begged to take ballet classes as a child, but she hadn’t been permitted, and it likely made Claire envious of Alexis’ accomplishments. However, she’d followed it up by stating that she’d forbidden it, believing that showing so much of one’s body was a sin and promoted promiscuity. Alexis wasn’t sure what to make of things after that, and had stayed quiet. 

Justin listened quietly, gradually draining his drink. By the time Alexis was done filling him in, they were both ready for a refill and the plate of cookies was empty.

“More gingerbread?” Justin asked. “I have other kinds of cookies stored for tomorrow that we could sneak from too….”

Alexis shook her head. “I’m good, thank you. I _will_ take a little more of that yummy apple concoction, though. I think another glass of that, and I’ll sleep like a baby tonight!”

Justin laughed. “It is rather warm and cozy, isn’t it?” he said, standing from the couch and taking their mugs into the kitchen for a refill. As he returned, the sound of Gus’ laughter radiated down from upstairs. 

“Sounds like gaming night part two is underway,” Alexis said, reading Justin’s thoughts as he rejoined her on the couch, passing over another full mug of the spiked cider. She smiled. “I really am grateful that Peter’s getting the chance to get to know Gus — and especially Brian. You don’t know how much it means to both of us that there’s finally family we can connect with in a meaningful way.” 

“Me too,” Justin said, nodding. “Brian rarely gets visibly excited about things — at least, not in the long-term, so it’s been refreshing to see how much he’s looked forward to your visit. We have some biological family between us — Gus, and my mom and sister — and an amazing network of chosen family, but Brian has never truly been able to connect with people who were related to him from the start. I know Peter’s not exactly that, but he’s as close as Brian’s ever been able to get, besides Gus, and I know that means more to him that he can express.” 

Alexis smiled, looking emotional. “It’s the same for Peter. He’s never felt close to anyone in his family. And my family is incredibly close knit — traditional Chinese customs, things like that. I know my parents originally hoped that I’d end up with a Cantonese boy, but they absolutely love Peter and have welcomed him into our family. It means a lot to him to have them, but I also know how much it bothers him to not have the same in his own family.” 

“Are the rest of Peter’s family close to each other?” Justin asked curiously. He certainly heard a lot more mentioned about Claire, John, and even Joan, when she’d been alive.

“I guess it depends what ‘close’ means,” Alexis said, shrugging. “Peter’s mom has always been fiercely protective of John, and Grandma Joan seemed mostly concerned about keeping his reputation contained within the family — it always seems like he’s getting himself in some sort of trouble. It’s part of why Peter prefers staying distanced.” 

Justin snorted. “That was my first introduction to John, so I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

Alexis rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that story… and I guess it’s been all this just to say, the absolute last thing Peter wants right now is to lose _this_ family’s trust. Having a relationship with Uncle Brian — and with you and Gus — means so much to him. He’d never want to put that at risk. I think that’s why his mom’s accusations got to him so badly. It immediately put him on the defense, and he felt like he had to ‘prove’ that he wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone or anything — that we weren’t just here using either of you for what you have.” 

“I know Brian wanted to talk to him tonight,” Justin admitted, “but he fell asleep before he could.” 

Alexis nodded. “Once I realized what had gotten into Peter, because that whole thing he pulled as we were leaving, practically dragging me out the door — which was _not_ okay — I told him that he had to put on his big boy pants and have a conversation with Uncle Brian, to clear the air.” 

Justin smiled, feeling relieved, and held up his nearly-empty mug. “Well, here’s to Kinney family members actually communicating effectively.”

Alexis grinned back, holding up her mug and clinking it with Justin’s. “Here’s hoping!”

***

On Christmas Eve morning, Brian was the first one awake, much to his own surprise, as he’d expected his husband to be puttering around the kitchen before sunrise. Justin, however, was sleeping deeply, and there was no sign of noise coming from anywhere else in the apartment. 

For once, Brian felt surprisingly well-rested, and his mind darted back to the previous night and the run around the reservoir with his son, during which Gus had offered his take on why Peter had suddenly changed his demeanor. While Brian still had slight apprehension about the eventual conversation he knew he had to have with his nephew, he figured the anxiety he’d felt most of the day, coupled with the dose of relief he felt later, was what had allowed him to sleep as well as he had — and what had evidently been so intense that he’d fallen asleep fresh out of the previous evening’s shower. 

Since Justin hadn’t set an alarm alerting him to breakfast preparation, Brian decided to treat his family instead, quickly getting up and dressed, then quietly sneaking out to pick up bagels from Justin’s favorite deli in Midtown. Fortunately, due to the early hour, and that it was a holiday for most people, it was abnormally quick to get down to the shop and back, and Justin showed no signs of stirring by the time Brian returned, a still-hot baker’s dozen of New York’s finest in tow. 

Not wanting to disturb Justin and anxious to allow himself any opportunity to cross paths with Peter, Brian opted to settle himself in the kitchen. He sat at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee as he skimmed the New York Times on his iPad and texted with Michael, snorting as his best friend relayed tales of Debbie’s over-the-top Christmas Eve festivities, much like every year. It was the first time in a while that Brian and Justin hadn’t gone down to join them, but hosting his own family was an event in itself, and fortunately, his chosen family in Pittsburgh was not only understanding, but completely supportive and encouraging. Now that things seemed a bit off-kilter with Peter, a part of him truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to let them down this year, if things went awry. Little did he know, he was about to find out. 

“Hey… um… Uncle Brian.”

Brian looked up to see Peter standing in the entryway, looking slightly hesitant. He cleared his throat and set his devices aside. “Hey,” he replied, offering his nephew what he hoped was a welcoming smile. 

Peter took a few steps into the kitchen. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?” he asked, seeming nervous and unsure. He was wringing his hands not unlike what Brian was pretty sure he also did when he couldn’t hide his anxiety. 

Fortunately, Brian was able to conceal his own trepidation, and shook his head, vaguely aware that he’d steeled himself much in the way he tended to do before an important business meeting. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? I should warn you that Justin says when I make it, it’s like jet fuel, but—”

“Sure,” Peter agreed. “Thanks... I mean, I can get it though,” he added, quickly moving toward the kitchen’s coffee station and pouring himself a cup.

“Sugar’s out. Milk’s in the fridge. I think there’s also some of the holiday flavored shit Gus likes too.” 

Peter nodded, quickly preparing his coffee with just a slight splash of milk before joining Brian at the table. He took a sip, clearly trying to look casual, but couldn’t help letting out a small cough. “You weren’t kidding.” 

Brian gave a small smirk. “I cut it with more sugar than is reasonably healthy. You’re a little braver than I am.”

“This reminds me of the coffee we made for all-nighters at Penn State,” Peter said. “It’s actually good, I just wasn’t expecting it to be _this_ strong.” 

They sat silently for another few seconds, Peter sipping from his mug again while Brian studied the smooth surface of the kitchen table, wondering how the hell to start the type of conversation he needed to have with his nephew. Fortunately, after another minute, Peter took the reins. 

“Um, listen… Before everyone else was awake, I was kind of hoping we could… talk.”

Brian nodded. “I was hoping for that too.” The honesty came out before he could stop it, but he was grateful when he noticed the relief that seemed to settle over Peter’s face.

Peter opened his mouth, and then closed it again, instead shaking his head and groaning. “I don’t know how to start this.”

“Well,” Brian said carefully, “maybe we can begin with when my sister called yesterday?” As nervous as he was for the conversation, he didn’t want to spend a lot of time beating around the bush, especially because, if what Gus had said was accurate, Peter was beating himself up over something Claire had done, not something faulty in Brian. In that case, Brian wanted to get to the bottom of that as quickly as possible. 

“Yeah.” Peter nodded, and sighed heavily. “She called to remind me of Christmas plans, and to, more or less, tell me what she needed me to do.” He snorted derisively. “It’s typical, really.”

“What did she need?” Brian asked curiously. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “To be honest, I’m not completely sure. I told her we wouldn’t be there before she could get any further, and she pretty much… flipped the fuck out.” 

Once Peter started talking, getting the information surrounding what had happened was easier than Brian had anticipated. As soon as Claire had learned that her younger son was in New York City and planning to spend the holidays with his semi-estranged uncle, the accusations had started flying in a flood of anger, jealousy and vitriol.

“She told me that if I think you’re going to do anything for me, I’m dead wrong, because you’ve never done shit for her, and I’m less to you than she ever was,” Peter explained quietly, looking troubled. “She basically called me a gold digger, even accused Alexis of putting me up to it, then told me you’ll see right through it and know exactly what I’m after.” He took another heavy breath before continuing. “She also said you’re a selfish son-of-a-bitch who’s never cared about anyone in your filthy, disgusting life, and that I’m an idiot if I think that, after what you did to the family after Grandma died, you’d give a shit about me, let alone give me a red cent.” 

Brian let out a slow breath, shaking his head. Not much about Claire had changed over the years, least of all her terminology. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, processing what Peter had just shared. For as bad as his relationship had been with Joan over the course of his life, her issue with him had always been his lack of relationship with the church — and later on, his sexuality, but she’d never dared to verbally abuse him in the way that Claire had attacked her son. It made him shudder to think how many times she’d likely done it to him previously.

“I just—” Peter continued almost desperately, before Brian was able to say anything further, “—I just want you to know that I’ve _never_ had that kind of idea about you. It’s not why any of this is happening, why—”

“I know,” Brian said firmly, cutting Peter off before he could say anything else. “Trust me, I know,” he repeated, this time more gently. His nephew’s clear anxiety was magnifying what Brian was already feeling, and he wanted to put them both out of their own misery right away. 

“Are you sure?” Peter asked shakily.

Normally, Brian would have given almost anyone else a sharp reply, suggesting that, of course he fucking knew what he was saying — especially in a matter of trust. But as he watched Peter’s body language, he saw a little bit of himself in countless situations with his family members. Peter wasn’t questioning Brian, he was questioning his _own_ worth, and the realization made Brian’s stomach drop. 

_We are so fucking alike, and I’m so sorry for that._

Instead of saying what was running through his head, Brian cleared his throat and looked his nephew in the eyes, troubled by the glassiness he saw reflecting back at him. “Peter,” he said, hoping his voice was as firm but gentle as he hoped, “I fucking _promise_ you. I _believe_ you, I _trust_ you.”

“I don’t care if you have money or not,” Peter whispered, clearly struggling to contain the emotion in his voice. “I just… I just wanted to finally feel like part of a family… My _own_ family. That’s all I want.” A tear slipped down his cheek as he finished talking, and he hastily wiped it away, muttering, “ _Fuck_.” 

“I get it,” Brian offered, not sure of how much physical comfort he should offer, so he stayed in his seat. “I know how they make you feel. They did it to me for the first half of my life, and then some. I just got better about ignoring it, I guess… I mean, mostly.” His brain briefly trailed back to his last visit with Joan, and the barrage of withheld feelings he’d unloaded on his mother in what he later learned were her final hours of life. 

“It’s so fucked up,” Peter said thickly, shaking his head. “It’s like nothing is ever enough, and you’re always the villain, even if you’re the only one doing what’s right.” 

Brian nodded, feeling truly understood for one of the first times in his life. It was one thing to know Justin “got” it, from the little he’d experienced, and by supporting Brian when he could, but it was an entirely different experience to share with someone who had gone through the same things — and the same expectations — largely by the same people. 

“Like,” Peter continued, “I don’t even know how many times I’ve just wanted to say _fuck it_ and write them off entirely, but then my mom calls with some sob story guilt trip that makes me feel like I’m being selfish if I refuse to help them with something that seems otherwise trivial, if I really try to look at it objectively… It’s so fucking unfair, because enough is _never_ good enough, but I’m the only one doing the giving.” 

“It never stops,” Brian agreed, completely relating to the anger that had started to tinge his nephew’s words. 

Peter sighed, giving Brian a grateful half-smile. “Well, hopefully it stopped for you. My mom got so mad at what you did after Grandma died that I don’t think she’ll be bothering you anytime in the near future.”

Brian huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t hold my breath when she hits her next major expense, but you’re right in that I had to put an end to things, or else who knows how long it would’ve gone on. I can resist my sister a lot better than I could your grandma.”

“Why do you think that is?” Peter asked curiously, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug. He glanced over at his uncle to find him doing the same thing and bit his lip to suppress a smile. 

“I don’t really know,” Brian said, shrugging. “I mean, there are innumerable layers to all of it and would likely take years on the most skilled therapist’s couch to draw a comprehensive conclusion.” He bought himself some time by taking a long sip from his dwindling coffee cup, noticing Peter’s curious look, then added with a scoff, “And that’s not going to happen in this lifetime.” 

Peter nodded in understanding. “I just wish I didn’t feel so… obligated, you know?”

“Do I ever,” Brian replied. He paused, then continued contemplatively, “The best I can make of it now, putting as little emotional strain into it as possible, is that my actions speak to who _I_ am as a person. Claire, Joanie, John… even fucking Jack… That’s who _they_ are, or were. Their choices are their own. Your choices are _your_ own. My choices are _mine_. And now, finally, and God-willing, I’ve taken ownership of my own life, and I’m not going to let anyone tell me who I am or get to be.” 

“I like that,” Peter said. “I guess I need to start thinking of things similarly.” 

“You should,” Brian agreed. “We both deserve more than what we’re willing to accept from our biological family. It took me far too long to learn that. I’m _still_ learning. But let my mistakes be your lesson.”

Peter gave Brian a genuine smile. “Thanks, Uncle Brian,” he said. “I really appreciate your support. It’s nice to talk to someone who actually gets it.” 

Brian smiled back. “I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

They talked a little while longer, both braving another cup of coffee as Peter asked several questions about Brian’s experiences growing up in the Kinney household. Though sometimes it was difficult to make certain admissions, Brian answered him honestly. Peter hadn’t remembered much about his Grandpa Jack, but he said Claire’s representation of her father had always seemed “off” to him — now he knew why. What Brian had revealed about Joan was less surprising, since Peter had seen and heard much of it himself, but he still looked incredibly sad to have his uncle’s treatment — by nearly _all_ of their family members — verified.

In the midst of discussing their mutual disdain for being treated like their family’s appointed financial institutions, Brian suddenly jumped up from his seat, catching Peter off-guard. “There’s something I need to get. Give me just a minute.”

As soon as Brian saw Peter nod a bit bemusedly, he walked out of the room and back to his bedroom, entering as quietly as possible, in case Justin was still asleep.

Justin, however, was wide awake, and looked up almost guiltily when Brian walked in. “Hey!” he said, entirely too enthusiastically.

Brian narrowed his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the happiness that he knew was inextricably woven through his features. “What?”

“Nothing,” Justin said, smiling at the excited energy radiating off of his husband, before reversing the question. 

“Peter and I talked — have been talking all morning. It’s been… hard as fuck, honestly, but so, _so_ fucking good.”

Justin’s smile expanded into his “sunshine” grin as he jumped up from the bed to give Brian a hug and kiss. “I’m so happy for you!” 

Brian nodded, his eyes shining. “I want to tell you about it, but I just came in here to get something….”

“Oh?” 

Without responding, Brian walked over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out an envelope, and then gave Justin a meaningful look. 

Justin’s eyes widened in recognition when he realized what it was. “I’ll hold off the troops for a bit longer,” he said, then admitted, “When Alexis and I realized that you and Peter were both missing from bed, we had a feeling and looped in Gus.”

“Text co-conspirators,” Brian said with a smirk. He walked back over to his husband and brandished the envelope in his left hand. “Wish me luck,” he added, before leaning down for another kiss. Justin obliged and squeezed his free hand.

“Good luck.”

Peter was in the middle of typing a text, presumably to Alexis, when Brian reentered the room, but immediately set his phone aside when he noticed. 

“Everything OK?” he asked, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Listen,” Brian said, hoping what he was about to do wouldn’t be received badly, considering the entire impetus of their conversation. “There’s something I wanted to give you privately. I… I suppose you could call it a Christmas gift, but… it is what it is. Obviously this isn’t really how I wanted to give it to you, but it feels… apropos, given the circumstances. Regardless, I didn’t want it to be a whole fucking production, and…” Brian trailed off, feeling uncomfortable. He took a deep breath. “Please just accept it, okay? In the spirit in which it’s intended.” 

Peter looked mystified as he processed his uncle’s words, and his eyes narrowed as he saw Brian pull a slim envelope from behind his back. “Uncle Brian—” he began, but Brian cut him off.

“What did I just say?”

“I know, but—” Peter tried again.

Brian pressed his lips together and exhaled heavily as he sat back down at the table. “Why don’t you just open it first, and _then_ we can argue about it, if you insist.”

Realizing he couldn’t dispute Brian’s logic, Peter accepted the envelope and opened it gingerly, as if its contents were fragile. When he pulled out the enclosed check, Brian watched his eyes nervously flit to the amount before they widened so much that his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline

“ _Holy fucking shit_ ,” he breathed, then looked up, shaking his head. “Uncle Brian… no. You can’t. _I can’t_ … I can’t accept this.”

“I fucking can,” Brian countered. “And so can you.” 

“It’s too much!” Peter insisted, still somewhat in shock. “Why? I don’t understand….” He hesitated. “This isn’t because I told you yesterday that I’m trying to save money--”

Brian shook his head resolutely. “Absolutely not. This was planned long before you even left the Pitts.” 

“Then _why_?”

Fortunately, there was at least one explanation Brian had prepared, realizing early on that, if Peter was truly who Brian perceived him to be, the gift wouldn’t be received without at least _some_ resistance.

“Well,” he began calmly, “let’s say we had actively been in one another’s lives since you were born. Figure twenty-five years of birthdays and Christmases, give or take. Presume something like $100 per occasion, and just call it a lump sum.”

Peter looked skeptical. “That’s still only half.”

Brian nodded, still prepared. “Throw in graduations, too. Good report cards. Little League championships, piano recitals... whatever else an uncle is supposed to ‘reward’ along the way.” 

Peter smirked at Brian’s explanation, still not looking convinced. “Uncle Brian, it still doesn’t make sense. This is _thousands_ more than that.” 

"Then call the rest of it ‘because you have a really _fucking_ rich uncle who, contrary to popular opinion, likes to do nice things for the people he loves.’" Brian said, shrugging. “I _want_ you to have it.”

“I guess I can’t argue that logic,” Peter said wryly, but still seemed uncomfortable. “Honestly though, Uncle Brian. There’s no way I could do anything even remotely comparable for you.”

Brian looked down, chewing on his lip as he contemplated how he wanted to respond. There was the typical route of simply stating that there was no need to reciprocate, nor was it expected, but there was also a more honest, vulnerable answer. After a moment, Brian made his decision and looked up again, giving Peter a sad smile. 

“Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, mentally willing his voice to cooperate with him. The question was clearly rhetorical, but Peter humored him with a serious nod anyway, waiting patiently as Brian released a long, heavy sigh. “Do you know the last time I invited someone from our family to have Christmas with me?” he asked quietly.

Peter pondered this for a moment and then shook his head. “I can’t remember anything… and Mom kinda said enough to indicate she hadn’t spent a holiday with you in a long time.”

“She’s thinking of when I was still forced to go to your grandmother’s, before I couldn’t stand it so badly that I started spending holidays with my best friend’s family, or flying somewhere far away from Pittsburgh, just to have an excuse to avoid being anywhere in particular.” Brian let out a bitter chuckle. The truth he didn’t care to share in detail with his nephew was that, once he could afford to splurge on leisure travel, he’d taken advantage of spending holidays fucking, drinking, and drugging his way through exclusive party resorts in South Beach, Palm Springs, and eventually Europe. The variety of highs from those getaways didn’t necessarily fill the void of familial love, but the warm weather, hot men, and endless parades of sexual gratification did enough of a job to help him forget about what he lacked. 

“Ah,” Peter said, not sounding surprised, wrapping his hands around the cooling mug of coffee as he waited for Brian to continue.

Brian gave him a sad smirk before continuing. “The answer to my question is _never_. I’ve never invited someone from the Kinney family to join me for Christmas — or any holiday. Not until now, with you and Alexis. I’ve honestly never wanted to, and I don’t regret it… But, Peter…” Brian trailed off, feeling the pull of emotion taking hold of his throat, forcing him to clear it before he continued, “...to be able to share this Christmas with you, hosting you in my home for the first time…” he huffed out a wet laugh and sniffed. “Truthfully, it’s one of the best gifts _anyone’s_ ever given to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

His own eyes wet again, Peter stood and walked to his uncle’s seat, then leaned down to hug him, murmuring, “Me too.” Without breaking the embrace, Brian stood, and at full, nearly-matching height, the two men’s arms tightened around each other, which is how Justin found them a few seconds later when he walked into the room. 

Because of their positioning, Brian was facing the kitchen, and saw Justin’s entrance, along with his unmistakable “Oh shit!” face, as he realized that he’d interrupted a poignant moment between the Kinney men, but Brian raised a hand to stop him before he turned to leave the room, instead gently pulling back from Peter and offering a small but genuine smile before tilting his head to acknowledge his husband’s arrival. 

“Hey,” Peter said, turning to greet Justin.

“Good morning,” Justin replied pleasantly, then paused, sniffing the air. “You fucking didn’t!” he exclaimed, turning his attention on Brian, his blue eyes bright with excitement. 

Brian simply shrugged, a mysterious smile teasing his lips. The lightness in his features — relief married with complete and utter contentment — warmed Justin’s heart, and he was about to follow his instinct to go to his husband for his own hug until he spotted the large paper sack sitting next to the coffee station. 

“You did!” 

Brian snorted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess that you stop there no fewer than three times per week.”

“But I didn’t have to buy these. Or go out of my way in line in the cold!”

Peter was casting a curious look at the two of them, though the smell of still-warm bagels was apparent in the kitchen. Brian noticed his nephew and grinned. “As you spend more time with us in the city, you will learn that your mother is correct in that we’re not monogamous — but it’s actually because _Justin_ is also in a relationship with a bagel shop in midtown east,” he teased, then smirked at his husband as Peter laughed. 

Justin walked over to Brian and leaned up for a kiss. “You know you’ll always be my number one.” 

“Barely, but only be—” There was an inappropriate remark on the tip of Brian’s tongue, but fortunately, the addition of both Gus and Alexis to the kitchen, as well as Brian’s fortunate better judgment, prevented it from coming to fruition, as Gus unknowingly saved the day. 

“Oh my god, you got _Ess-a-Bagel_?” he exclaimed, immediately noticing the bag on the counter. He turned to their guests. “This is seriously the best fucking bagel you’ll ever have.” 

Justin grinned and shrugged at the rest of them, as if to indicate, “ _What can I say?_ ” 

With the rest of the family gathering, they moved pretty seamlessly into breakfast mode. Justin made a fresh pot of coffee after he tasted the remainder of Brian’s brew and cringed, and the cousins started slicing and toasting bagels while Alexis set out the variety of spreads Brian had purchased to accompany them. 

Justin still desperately wanted to check in with his husband, to fully check in on how he was feeling after his conversation with Peter, but it seemed that Brian was wearing his heart on his sleeve for once, smiling easily and engaging in lighthearted banter with the others as he set the table. The one time their eyes met for more than a second, Justin tried his best to convey his questions through his gaze, and Brian simply pressed his lips together and nodded, as if to say, _”It’s exactly how it’s supposed to be._ ”

To Justin’s delight, their Pittsburgh guests found just as much enjoyment out of true New York bagels as he did, and as the younger adults enjoyed seconds, Brian took advantage of the opportunity to steal his husband back to their master suite, to fill him in on the morning. 

“I’m so glad you talked,” Justin said when Brian finished explaining everything that had taken place. “I’m even more glad that you have Peter in your life now.”

Brian nodded, still feeling emotionally overwhelmed — but, as he would put it, in a ‘positive, life-affirming way’ that he found he actually enjoyed for once. “I’m glad we _all_ have Peter. And Alexis.”

Justin tightened his arm around Brian from their entwined position on the bed. “It’s nice that we have family on both sides now. Can you imagine future gatherings, between my side, your side, and the family we’ve created? It’s going to be so—”

“—complete,” Brian interjected hoarsely, his voice catching on the word, and then he leaned in to capture his husband’s lips, trying to manipulate his feelings into something tangible that he knew how to control. 

Realizing what Brian was trying to do, and recognizing that there wasn’t anything remotely sexual behind it, Justin kissed back, allowing Brian to roll on top of him — to take whatever he needed to find the comfort and grounding he seeked.

“Hey— oh _shit_ —” Gus’ voice broke into their impromptu makeout session as he pushed open the door. “Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t see—” he stammered, starting to back out of the room.

Brian and Justin pulled apart, laughing, neither seeming remotely apologetic. “Gus, it’s fine,” Justin called back to their horrified son. 

“You sure?” Gus called back, still lingering a step beyond their bedroom threshold.

“It’s fine,” Brian assured, moving off of Justin and standing up. “See? Nothing,” he added, indicating that he was fully clothed and appropriate.

Gus gave him a leery once-over, but muttered, “I’ll take your word for it.” 

“What’s up?” Brian asked, still laughing at his son’s reaction. Justin simply smiled from his seated position on the bed, relieved that Brian seemed far more relaxed about such things than he’d been two days earlier. 

“We were talking about things to do today,” Gus began, seeming recovered, “and we were thinking maybe Central Park? Since it’s close, for one, and I think Alexis wanted to do one of the carriage rides, plus we could go ice skating, and then just go from there?”

Brian glanced at Justin. “Do you mind if we go skating without you?” he asked, knowing his husband had planned to spend the day creating their Christmas Eve feast. Brian wasn’t usually one for large and decadent meals, but knowing what Justin had in store, he was looking forward to the occasion. 

“Not at all,” Justin replied easily. “We can always go to Rockefeller or back to Bryant Park before Peter and Alexis leave, too. Just be back before six.”

Gus nodded affirmatively and jogged back to the kitchen to share the plan. A few minutes later, Alexis knocked on the doorframe, and poked her head into the room. Fortunately, this time, Brian and Justin were both standing and turned to greet her. 

“Do you need help with dinner?” she asked Justin. “I completely forgot that you had said we were doing our big holiday meal tonight, and I feel bad that—”

Justin smiled and shook his head. “I’m totally fine. I already have a strategy in mind, and honestly, I enjoy this. You guys go have fun. Give Brian a workout on the ice.” 

Alexis grinned and nodded. “OK, I can’t wait for dinner!”

As soon as she left the room, Brian turned back to Justin with a plaintive smirk. “Thanks a lot, Sunshine. I’m still not sure I’ve recovered from pounding the literal pavement with Sonny Boy last night.”

Justin simply dragged a teasing arm across his husband’s abdomen and gave him a sultry grin as he walked past him, heading into the bathroom to shower. 

“You’ll be fine. And trust me. It’s no match for the workout _I_ have in mind for you later tonight.” 

***

As promised, everybody arrived back at the penthouse just past five-thirty and went their separate ways to freshen up and change before dinner. On several occasions, appreciative comments about Justin’s upcoming meal carried to said chef’s pleased ears as the others took in the decadent aromas emanating through the house. 

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Brian murmured, coming up behind his husband to press a kiss to his neck after he entered the kitchen and saw the impressive spread nearing completion. 

Justin smiled and turned to greet Brian properly, taking advantage of the opportunity to enjoy a private moment together. “I wanted you to have the things we missed by not being in Pittsburgh this year. I know it doesn’t make up for the people, but—”

“It’s everything I need,” Brian interrupted, kissing him again, this time more deeply, then added, “We can FaceTime with Mikey and everyone else later.”

It turned out that Justin had thought of that as well, and just before their group assembled in the dining room, he and Ben established FaceTime through their iPads, discreetly connecting their families, with the exception of Justin’s mom, who was spending the holidays visiting Molly in Columbus. 

When Brian walked into the room and noticed Justin’s iPad propped at the head of the table, he looked confused at first, but as soon as he registered what he was seeing, Justin swore it was all his husband could do not to burst into tears as he took in his best friend and the rest of their chosen family waving to them. It was a genuine reaction from Brian that Justin had never seen before, and he could feel his own eyes watering as he saw Brian’s happiness, along with Gus enthusiastically noticing his mothers and sister, and Debbie addressing them in her usual boisterous manner, greeting Peter and Alexis as if they were regular guests at their holiday meals. 

It was too hectic to maintain the call throughout both meals, so they quickly passed the iPad around the table while also taking turns filling their plates with food from Justin’s sumptuous buffet — his own take on Debbie’s traditional “Feast of the Seven Fishes” Christmas Eve meal. 

Dinner was amazing, and was followed by an equally impressive array of cookies that, gingerbread aside, Brian hadn’t even realized that Justin had had time to bake, let alone store them unseen. Rather than everyone splitting up as they had the previous two nights, dessert turned into an evening-long family affair as they all stayed gathered around the table for the next several hours, eating, drinking, and playing card games that kept them all laughing hysterically (and gave Brian, Justin and Gus a newfound respect for Alexis and the vulgarity that _Cards Against Humanity_ and a healthy dose of spiked cider pulled from her otherwise unassuming mien). 

It was nearing midnight when everyone, sufficiently buzzed on their spirits of choice (or in Gus’ case, placated by the minimal cocktails his father had permitted, given his degree of supervision and mere months from Canadian legality), headed to their respective bedrooms to change into pajamas and take care of any last-minute morning preparations. 

Though Brian was eager to spend the early hours of Christmas making good on Justin’s promise from that morning and truly expressing his gratitude for such an amazing day, there were a few gifts he wanted to leave by the Christmas tree first, in anticipation of when his family awoke the next day. 

As he rounded the hallway corner into the family room, he didn’t expect to find Peter and Alexis, bathed in the muted glow of the white twinkle lights on the tree, kissing tenderly. Before he could quietly back out of the room, the floor creaked and they both looked up in surprise and jumped apart. 

“Sorry!” Brian said quickly. “I didn’t know anyone else was down here.”

“No, we’re sorry!” Alexis insisted, the blush on her cheeks visible from where Brian stood, several feet away. “We shouldn’t ha—”

Brian laughed, effectively cutting her off. “You two can fuck under the tree for all I care, make yourselves at home.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed Justin’s boozy holiday concoction for disabling his family-friendly filter, but when Peter barked out his own laugh, and Alexis followed suit, Brian realized that he could relax. If the last two days had proven anything, his nephew and future niece were definitely _his_ kind of people.

“We were actually just leaving some things down here,” Peter explained, gesturing at an array of festively-wrapped packages near where they were standing. 

Brian smiled but shook his head. “No explanations necessary. I was just doing the same.” He walked to the tree and saw where Justin had already placed some of their other gifts, then knelt to place his smaller stack alongside them.

“I’m actually going to head back upstairs for the night,” Alexis said, smiling at Brian as he stood up. She moved over to him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug that he returned with equal fervor. “I don’t know how to tell you how grateful we _both_ are for everything this week,” she added once they separated. “You all mean so much to both of us.” 

In an uncharacteristic moment of shyness, Brian looked down and bit his lip around a small smile before replying. “It’s entirely mutual, my dear.”

Alexis leaned up and pecked him on the cheek, then reached out to squeeze her boyfriend’s hand before moving toward the stairs. “Love you both. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas,” Brian echoed, smiling softly as she headed to their room, Peter calling after her that he’d be up shortly. 

Once she was out of earshot, Peter turned back to his uncle. “She means it,” he said seriously. “We _both_ do. She’s… never really been accepted by Mom or anyone else in our family, not really. This — it means a lot to her. And to me…. _especially_ to me.”

Brian nodded. “Trust me. I get it.”

Peter nodded and huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you do.” He looked at the tree, giving himself a few seconds to collect his thoughts as he took in its flocked branches and myriad of multi-sized red and gold baubles. “You know, I’ve had the craziest thought swimming around in my head all day,” he began finally, a bit uncertain as he tried to figure out how to best articulate himself. 

Brian nodded encouragingly, taking a seat on the sofa, gesturing for Peter to follow suit.

“If someone had told me a few months ago that _any_ part of the last few weeks would be possible, I’d have said they were certifiably insane,” Peter continued a few seconds later. “And I think back to the split second in the hospice when I saw you — at least, I was fairly sure it was you — and wondered if I should even say anything. I think my mouth moved before my brain, honestly, because the next thing I knew, you were in my car, and I was just like, _fuck, now what?_ ” He chuckled a little and cast his uncle a small smile. “For whatever reason it happened, I’m so glad I did it, and I’m so grateful that you accepted.”

“I am too,” Brian said quietly, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat as he cycled through the same memories and the thoughts that had raced through his mind that day. 

“It’s ironic,” Peter continued, “because, had that never happened, it would have become a day entirely focused around loss, but instead—” his voice trembled as he tried to control his emotions, “—it turns out that I made one of the most significant gains of my life. You.”

In many ways, the hours before Joan died had been transformational for Brian too. Not only had he finally granted himself emancipation from the figurative restraints that had kept him shackled to his mother’s lifelong emotional abuse, but he’d also discovered the first glimmer of a _true_ Kinney family bond in the form of a nephew he’d barely known. A choked sound escaped Brian’s throat, despite his own best efforts to contain it, and when Peter looked up, having noticed it, he could see the tree lights reflecting off of the tears in his uncle’s hazel eyes — eyes that laid bare the words and emotions his voice could not physically convey. 

Peter blinked, inadvertently causing his own eyes to overflow, but when he saw the same thing happen to Brian a second later, he made no effort to hide his tears. As the two men gazed at each other, hearts plainly on their sleeves, they could both sense the gravity of the moment — its irrevocable pull, and what it finally represented in their lifelong quests to find true belonging within their shared bloodline. 

“The older I got, I kept telling myself to give up on such a ridiculous notion,” Peter said a few seconds later, his voice barely more than a whisper. “That there was no chance to ever find the kind of familial relationship that I craved my whole life… I mean, Alexis’ family is amazing, and I love them all so much, but--”

“I understand,” Brian said, nodding through his tears. “I feel the same way. The family I’ve chosen is _everything_ to me, but it’s—”

“—not the same,” Peter finished thickly. “Not when what you _could_ have had right at your fingertips mocks you on a daily basis, and reminds you how entirely fucked up it is instead.” 

Brian snorted wetly. “No fucking shit.” 

Peter noticed a box of tissues on one of the end tables and snagged two, passing one to Brian. After they both wiped their eyes and blew their noses, Peter looked back at his uncle and tried to smile. “You know, for some reason, no matter how many times I told myself to just let it go — to just walk away from all the shit that they all tried to pull — I could never do it… not really, anyway.” 

“Me neither,” Brian admitted. “Not completely.” 

Peter chuckled lightly. “It’s not much of a surprise to know that now… And I’m glad that we’re a lot more alike than I ever realized, because despite all the shit we’ve put up with, if we hadn’t still believed in finding something more than a misguided illusion — maybe _this_ wouldn’t ever have happened.”

Brian lips briefly rolled inward on a smile. “Well then, thank fuck for that,” he said, but then sobered, regarding his nephew seriously. “Except, also remember what I said this morning. You’re _not_ responsible for the choices other people make. As they say, to the victor belong the spoils — and we fucking earned it — but we _both_ also need to stop accepting less than we deserve.” 

“Or die trying,” Peter agreed wryly.

They continued to talk for a few more minutes, until Justin came out of the master bedroom, in search of his husband. When he noticed Brian and Peter in quiet conversation, both men sporting flushed yet content faces, he simply offered them both an understanding smile and told Brian to take his time before wishing Peter a Merry Christmas and then disappeared back down the hall. 

“I should let you continue your evening,” Peter said coyly, clearly recognizing that Justin's original intention had not involved interrupting the culmination of a familial breakthrough.

Brian smirked, glancing back fondly in the direction of his bedroom and shaking his head. He loved his husband so fucking much, which made it all the more meaningful that he now knew for sure that his nephew loved and accepted them both exactly as they were. The fact that Peter and Gus had practically become overnight best friends was the icing on the cake. 

“I’d be remiss to not mention the lovely young woman similarly anticipating your arrival,” Brian said, nodding upward, in the direction of Peter and Alexis’ bedroom. Peter smiled reflexively, the depth of his own affection unquestioningly apparent. 

As they both stood up, preparing to head back to their respective significant others, Peter glanced down warily at the gifts in Brian and Justin’s combined pile beneath the tree. “I hope nothing there is for me. You’ve done more than enough,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too presumptuous.

Brian just laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those are from Santa. I’m merely a vessel.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, but grinned, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one, and instead, pulled his uncle into a hug. “Thank you for _everything_ , Uncle Brian. Merry Christmas.”

Brian hugged his nephew back tightly, and then pressed a kiss to his temple. “Merry Christmas,” he echoed. “And thank _you_ for giving me a reason to believe.”

**Author's Note:**

> At this moment, I don't have more planned for this series, but I'm open to being convinced otherwise 😉
> 
> Comments = Love 💜


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